Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Please review! This is my second take on what Sirius went through the night the Potters died. I'm really anxious to know what you think!

Agony

By: ChoCedric

A swooping, sick feeling enveloped Sirius Black as he reached a decision. He was going to go and check on Peter Pettigrew. Something had been niggling at him for the last little while; he was twitchy and anxious. He'd already arranged to check on Peter later that night, but he wanted to go now; James, Lily, and Harry were his first priority, and since it had been him to suggest that Peter be switched to the secret-keeper role, he needed to see that his plan was working.

He went outside the little flat he had, and hopped on his shiny motorbike. As he sped off towards Peter's hideout, the sick feeling momentarily left him. Every time he rode that bike he felt nothing but pure freedom and joy. The wind whipped through his hair as he flew it through the clouds, letting out a whoop of pure glee.

But as he touched down at Peter's hideout, his anxiety returned full force. He dismounted, and jogged quickly to the door of the modest little cottage Peter had chosen for his hiding place.

He knocked, and waited with bated breath for Peter to answer. Seconds ticked by with no response, and Sirius felt his heart begin to race. He'd told Peter he'd be coming, and even if he was a little early, he still expected him to answer! He'd told him specifically to stay in the house, for he was afraid that Remus was passing information to Voldemort and that any of the other Marauders were bait. He'd come to the conclusion about Remus because the werewolf had been awfully sketchy lately, going away for long periods of time and not sending word of where he was.

"Wormtail!" Sirius called, throwing all caution to the wind. At this point, he didn't care whether he was heard by a Death Eater; the image of the happy little family at Godric's Hollow filled his mind's eye and it wouldn't go away. He'd keep them safe if it was the last thing he ever did.

But Peter still didn't answer. Bile rising into his throat, Sirius tried to open the door, and to his horror, it opened right up without him having to cast the Alohamora spell.

And when he walked into the cottage, there was not one sign of struggle. "Peter, answer me!" he cried in panic as he searched each room. A horrible doubt entered his mind, but he pushed it away fiercely. Peter was too stupid to become a Death Eater ... there was no way ...

But he realized that he was the stupid one as he entered Peter's room. For lying on the man's bed was a note. Unfolding it with shaking hands, he read Peter's messy scrawl:

Ha, tricked you, Sirius. What, you thought I was too stupid to have an original thought? Think again, Black!

And with those words, Sirius knew that everything he'd thought about Remus, and everything he'd concluded about Peter, was terribly, terribly wrong. James ... Lily ... Harry ... he thought, a surge of blinding rage and hatred for Peter coursing through him, and a fierce, all-consuming need to protect the three people who he loved more than life itself taking over every bone in his body.

Before he knew it, he was soaring towards Godric's Hollow on his bike, and for once, the sensation of flying didn't fill him with joy. Dread filled every inch of him as he got closer to the place where his best friend, his best friend's wife, and his precious Godson lived.

And when he arrived in the town, when he got close enough that he could see their house, he felt ready to vomit. For he was way, way too late. The house was completely and utterly destroyed.

"Oh Gods, noooo!" A heartrending scream left his lips as he touched down, jumped off his bike, and ran through the wreckage of what had once been the Potters' home. Merlin, what've I done? he thought frantically as he ran through the smashed-in door.

And there, on the hallway floor, was a sight that had haunted Sirius's nightmares, a sight that he had wanted to prevent from ever seeing. And now, all because of one stupid decision, that sight was lying right in front of him.

James Potter, his glasses askew, lay on the floor, his arms spread wide, no wand in his hand. As Sirius bent down and threw the glasses off, he stared into James's blank, lifeless hazel eyes. They had lost all their warmth and spark; no laughter was in them now at all. His face was full of fear and shock, but also had pure determination on it; he had gone out wanting to do nothing more than protect his family.

Sirius kept staring into the eyes of his best friend, begging them to blink, for this all to be a prank, for James to sit up and yell "Got ya, you berk!" But nothing of that sort happened. His best friend just continued to lie there, and Sirius wondered numbly why he'd had no wand. It must have been because he trusted Peter so damn much that even when the door was smashed in, he'd thought it was a prank or something, that nothing could go wrong because him and his family were safe and protected.

And Sirius felt a fresh surge of corrosive hatred at Peter go through him as he bent over and vomited all over the floor by his lifeless best friend. "Why were you so damn trusting James!" he screamed when he was done, wiping his face with his sleeve. And why were YOU, Sirius! he mentally added.

Tears came to his eyes then, and Sirius could not stop them from falling. Society deemed that men were not supposed to cry, especially men with the last name of Black, but Sirius didn't give two hoots about that right now. He gathered his dead best friend in his arms, screaming apologies to the man who would never laugh again, never pull pranks with him again, sobbing as he rocked them both back and forth. "PRONGS! WAKE UP, PLEASE! NOOOOOO! DON'T LEAVE ME PRONGS!" He shouted until he was hoarse, roughly shaking James's shoulders. But the man's eyes kept staring straight ahead, his fearful and determined visage burning a hole right in Sirius's heart.

Eventually, when he had worn himself out, he lowered James's body to the ground and kissed his forehead. "Love you, mate," he choked out through still-flowing tears. "I am so, so sorry. I failed you."

He knew that since he'd lost James, and the house was totally silent, that he'd lost Lily and Harry too. Upstairs, he checked each room until he got to Harry's nursery, and what he found inside crushed his already shattered heart into even tinier pieces.

Lying on the floor by Harry's crib, her green eyes opened wide, a look of pleading on her silent face, lay Lily Potter, the girl James had loved with all his soul, the girl he ended up dying for. Staring into her lifeless emeralds Sirius bent down and kissed her forehead too, tears falling on it. "I love you," he breathed brokenly. "I love you and I'm so, so sorry."

Preparing himself for the final blow of the night, even though he couldn't take any more loss, he looked into Harry's crib. But instead of seeing the limp body of his little Godson, he saw two jewelled emerald eyes blink at him, shining tears in them.

At first Sirius thought he had gone mad. He couldn't possibly be seeing this. The grief for James and Lily must have made him delusional.

But then, the eyes blinked again, and a whimper was heard. "Pafoo?" a young, tearful voice asked.

"Oh Gods," Sirius whispered as he bent down and picked up little Harry, little Harry who was very much alive. Blood was trickling from a cut on his forehead, and Sirius, on autopilot, cast a quick healing spell. Gathering the boy safely into his arms he carried him away from his mother's body as both of them had tears streaming down their faces.

Suddenly, Sirius heard footsteps downstairs. Whoever it is, I'll kill them, he thought, a vicious anger taking hold of him again. Probably Wormtail or Voldemort, here to finish what they started, for how was it that Harry was not dead like his parents?

Taking the stairs two at a time, Sirius flew down them, but it was a large, bushy half-giant he met at the bottom. Shock seizing him once again, he croaked hoarsely, "Hagrid?"

"Sirius? Sirius Black? Yeh ... yeh're here. I'm so sorry," Hagrid choked as tears fell from his beetle-black eyes. He gently took Harry from Sirius's arms. "Dumbledore told me ter come," he blubbered. "James an' Lily ... I can' believe it ..."

"Please, give Harry to me, Hagrid," Sirius begged, knowing that his beloved Godson was the only thing left of his two precious friends. "I'm his godfather, I'll look after him."

"Sorry, I can' Sirius," Hagrid said, laying a hand on the black-haired man's shoulder. "Dumbledore wants me ter take him ter his aunt an' uncle's."

"No!" Sirius shouted, all restraint leaving him. "The Dursleys? They hate magic! He can't live there! He needs to be with someone who loves him!"

"I can' disobey Dumbledore, Sirius," Hagrid said, looking extremely apologetic. "But I'm sure once yeh talk ter him, everything'll be sorted out."

"Fine," Sirius said, a corrosive fury pounding through him once again. If I can't have Harry, then I'll have revenge on the man that destroyed everything tonight, he thought with pure, raw hatred. "Take my motorbike. It'll get you there faster."

Looking bewildered, Hagrid asked, "Are yeh sure?"

Looking at Harry, memorizing every facet of his Godson that he could, Sirius nodded. "Just go, Hagrid," he said in a monotone. "Just go." He kissed Harry's forehead, saying nothing more; he couldn't think of anything else to say, he was so spent with grief.

xxx

Once Hagrid and Harry had soared away and Sirius had left the ruined residence of the Potters, the hunt began. I'll find Peter even if I die in the attempt, he thought fiercely as he turned into his Animagus form and sniffed around for a scent of rat. Finding one, he began to follow it, and he'd follow it until he found the cowardly, sniveling traitor.

And all night, he searched and searched. He didn't know how long it would take, but in the early hours of the morning, as Muggles were busying themselves running errands and going to work in London, Sirius found the little piece of vermin running along the streets, seemingly unnoticed by anyone except him. No one else was paying attention to the unassuming little man who was trying to make a desperate escape.

Quickly turning back into a human, not even caring if the Muggles saw him achieve this feat or not, Sirius screamed, "I'VE GOT YOU, PETTIGREW!"

Peter stopped short, fear in his eyes as Sirius ran up to him. "HOW DARE YOU, YOU BASTARD!" he roared as he drew out his wand. "HOW COULD YOU? YOU WERE THEIR FRIEND!"

Expecting to hear excuses about how Voldemort had forced him to tell, he was shocked at what actually happened. Peter opened his mouth, tears falling from his eyes, and screamed even louder than Sirius had, "LILY AND JAMES, SIRIUS! HOW COULD YOU?"

"WHAT?" Sirius snarled as he prepared to cast a curse at Peter, but what he had thought was an inept little man was far too quick for him.

The street suddenly exploded, raining debris everywhere. Muggles were screaming, and Sirius choked on all the dust as he struggled to process what had just happened. Looking down, he saw Peter assume the form of Wormtail and escape into the sewers, while about a dozen Muggles lay limp and lifeless on the ground, members of their family screaming and hollering.

It took a few seconds for it to really sink in: Peter had fooled everyone, had played the biggest prank the Marauders had ever played. A finger and some bloody robes were lying on the ground next to the dead Muggles, and Sirius knew that Peter had framed him for betraying his best friends and murdering him and all those innocents.

Memories of the Marauders' school days surfaced as laughter bubbled up inside Sirius's stomach, starting as a low chuckle but then growing louder and louder until it was completely hysterical. "The best pranks," he remembered saying to Peter, "are the ones where you don't get caught."

And Peter had done as Sirius had advised him; he had finally learned his lesson about not mucking up a prank, but in the worst possible way. As Ministry officials arrived, put him under arrest, and dragged Sirius away, he continued his deranged laughter; he had truly lost everything.

And it was all his fault.